


Release

by Jay_eagle



Series: Submission [2]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Dom!Douglas, Dom/sub, Impact Play, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sub!Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:37:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_eagle/pseuds/Jay_eagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt by starrysummernights, who requested orgasm denial within a BDSM AU. So - here are five times Douglas wouldn't let Martin come, and one time he did. </p><p>(This fic works as a stand-alone - no need to read the previous work in the series.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Release

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starrysummernights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrysummernights/gifts).



1.

 

“Douglas!”

 

Douglas’ head jerked up in surprise at Martin’s snappish tone.

 

“Where’s your logbook? And the flight plan you promised me?”

 

Douglas stood, and walked to stand behind Martin at his desk, noting his sub’s tense back, shoulders hitched practically to his ears. “Here you are.” He placed the plan down, resting his hand on Martin’s nape. _Thank goodness Arthur and Carolyn have left._ “You need to relax.”

 

“Rubbish, I’m fine, I’m –“

 

“ _Martin_.” Douglas’ dominance throbbed in his voice, suddenly. “You know the rules.” Martin stilled abruptly, the only sound in the room his ragged breath. “You need to let me know _before_ this happens.”

 

Martin quivered beneath Douglas’ firm hand. “It was that landing. And my van job being cancelled. And Simon phoning…”

 

“Shh.” Douglas tightened his grip, and Martin leaned back into it, Douglas pleased to note that some of the tension was already ebbing away from the captain’s posture. “I’m going to take you home now. And I’m going to take you to bed. You are going to relax, and let me take care of everything. Take care of you. Is that understood?”

 

“Yes,” Martin breathed, soft as a whisper. He moved his hand to his lap, squeezed, rubbed slightly.

 

“No,” Douglas ordered, though part of him always sang to know the effect just his voice could have on Martin, arousing him without a single touch. “You come when _I_ say. Not before.”

 

Martin twitched, but obeyed, his hand falling to dangle loosely at his side.

 

“Good boy,” Douglas praised, feeling his own cock firming a little just at the sight of Martin’s submission. “Get up. Go to the car.”

 

“The paperwork…” Martin had stood on command, his head now instinctively bowed in response to the dominance pouring off Douglas in waves.

 

“Can wait.”

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

* * *

 

2.

 

Douglas steered Martin into their hall. He’d made sure to touch him whenever he could all the way home, and Martin was nudging at the edge of subspace already, the stress vibrating off him reducing incrementally. Martin turned to meet his eyes, softly; Douglas couldn’t help but kiss him.

 

“Go upstairs.” He didn’t need to dom him too much, just a light touch was sufficient, then. “Wait for me.”

 

Martin ducked his head and left. Douglas cursed himself – he should have noticed Martin’s tension earlier, should have done something sooner – it was clear Martin badly needed this.

 

When he stepped into the bedroom, Martin was on his knees, stripped naked. Douglas swallowed hard, but mastered his surging arousal. He moved towards his sub, tracing a light finger just above his collar.

 

“Now,” he intoned, heavily, “you know what you’ve done wrong, yes?”

 

Martin nodded and shivered lightly.

 

“You tell me when you need a session. You help _me_ look after _you_.”

 

“Yes, Douglas.” Martin’s eyes were lowered. “Please?”

 

Douglas reached for the crop. “This will help you remember. Five strokes from me…” Martin looked up, eyes gleaming. “… Ten strokes for you.” Douglas lightly traced the tip up Martin’s erection, relishing his shudder.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.” Douglas brought the crop high, then down across Martin’s shoulders with a _crack_. Martin sighed, more tension seeping out of him. Four more times, and he was sagging forwards. “Now – stroke yourself. Ten times.”

 

“Thank you,” Martin breathed. Douglas watched closely as his sub tugged at his cock.

 

“Stop.”

 

Douglas continued his ministrations. Five from him, ten for Martin, again, again, till the captain was red-faced, gasping with the effort of not coming.

 

“Please, Master…”

 

“Enough.” Douglas laid down the crop. “Hand away.” Martin let it fall with a whine. “On the bed.”

 

* * *

 

3.

 

Martin scrambled to obey on wobbly legs, hands grasping at the mattress as he quaked with frustrated arousal.

 

“On your front.”

 

Martin complied, his hitching breaths evident in the jerk of his shoulders.

 

Douglas loomed over him, taking in the red-purple results of his application of the crop approvingly as he stripped, finally allowing his cock to spring free of restrictive boxers. He sighed in relief even as he reached for the lotion they kept handy by the bed, but wouldn’t allow himself to touch. Martin’s needs came first.

 

He knelt over him, straddled his sub’s hips. “You did so well,” he soothed, as he poured a generous dollop of lotion into his hand. He worked it between his palms, and smoothed the first stroke firmly into Martin’s back. “You looked beautiful.”

 

Martin turned his head sideways, glanced up at him. “Really, Douglas?”

 

“Really,” Douglas said reassuringly, putting as much dominance into his voice as he could muster. Martin’s submissive nature responded instantly; Douglas thrilled to the peacefully glazed expression that slipped onto Martin’s features. “You deserve this. Being cared for.” His hands roamed lower, and he shuffled down Martin’s legs to knead at his firm buttocks.

 

“Thank you… _oh…_ ” Martin squirmed under the pressure of Douglas’ warm, strong hands, rocked his hips into the coverlet.

 

“That’s it.” Douglas ran a slippery finger through Martin’s cleft. “You’re so hard, aren’t you?” Martin whimpered agreement. “So ready to come.”

 

Martin thrust with greater purpose. “Yes… God, yes.” His words were slurred, dopey, and Douglas knew he was swimming in subspace; all stress forgotten. He watched for a moment, barely restraining the urge to flip Martin over and just _take_ him.

 

“Stop.” Douglas gripped his hips, stilling them. Martin resisted momentarily, and Douglas leant over, covering Martin’s body with his. “ _STOP_.”

 

* * *

 

4.

 

Martin instantly froze; he couldn’t have helped doing so, the strength of Douglas’ will overriding his own in a forceful wave. Douglas praised him anyway, knowing this was what Martin needed, craved. “That’s my good boy.” He slid to the side, rolled Martin over to face him. “Good lad.”

 

Martin closed his eyes as Douglas’ hand ghosted along his chest, gave a single stroke to his furiously hard cock.

 

“I’m going to bind you. That way you won’t have to think.”

 

Douglas swiftly fastened Martin’s wrists and ankles into his comfiest leather restraints. He moistened his lips – Martin spread out before him, ribs heaving, cock damp and hard, was quite a sight.

 

“Just take. That’s all you need to do for me. Take.” He bent his head down, licked a broad stripe up Martin’s cock. Martin cried out, a broken sob of pleasure.

 

“Please – Douglas, Master, please…”

 

“Silence.” Douglas took in the tip of Martin’s cock, suckled lightly. “Don’t speak.”

 

Martin was instantly still, his quivering breaths the only sound in the room. Douglas lavished warm, wet attention all over his sub’s cock and balls – sliding his mouth down as far as he could before retreating tortuously slowly, knowing Martin was too close to the edge for fast. He traced the prominent veins with his tongue-tip, wriggled into the weeping slit, the taste bitter but somehow redolent of sweet, imminent victory. Martin’s balls were drawn up tighter than Douglas had ever seen them; he rolled them under his palm, making Martin jerk violently in the cuffs.

 

At last Douglas’ own temptation betrayed him. “How does it feel?” He ached to know. “Speak.”

 

A flood of words gushed forth. “Coiled so taut, so tense, everything in me straining, _fuck_ , so close… I can’t, please, please…”

 

“You can.” Douglas swallowed. “Hold on.”

 

* * *

 

5.

 

Douglas exulted as Martin nodded, tensely. ‘ _Anything for you,’_ that nod said. ‘ _For you. My dom. Mine.’_ Overcome with emotion, he lurched forward, planted a loving kiss on Martin’s sternum. “You’re doing so well…”

 

Martin sighed raggedly, backing from the brink, sweat glistening on his brow. “Thank you,” he murmured, and Douglas’ heart gave a flop of longing.

 

“I’m going to help you,” he said, fumbling behind him for what he needed. “Close your eyes. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Martin obediently did so, the dominant in Douglas roaring in triumph at the sight of his sub’s trusting expression. When Douglas fastened the cock-ring tightly around Martin, though, the captain convulsed – just about managing not to peek, a tortured squeak escaping him.

 

“Shh,” Douglas soothed, kissing again at his chest. “You come when _I_ say. I have control.”

 

“Ye-e-es,” Martin managed to gasp, the word dying in a hiss as Douglas touched a newly slickened finger to his entrance. As Douglas pressed gently inside, Martin’s ankles jerked, as if he wanted to draw his knees into himself, but the restraints held him back.

 

“That’s it…” Douglas coaxed, stroking sinuously towards the bump of Martin’s prostate. He knew he’d found it when Martin’s stream of minute whimpers broadened into a howl. “There you are.” He kissed at him again, pumping his single digit in and out, before using the distraction of closing his mouth over his sub’s nipple to introduce a second, scissoring insistently as soon as he felt Martin was ready to take it. He nudged Martin’s most sensitive spot again, and Martin shook so hard that the restraints jangled against the bed.

 

“Oh please, please, please…” Martin was incoherent. “Please let me come, please… Douglas…”

 

“Soon.” Douglas was nearly at the edge himself – but there was something more, yet… “Soon…”

 

* * *

 

+1.

 

Douglas reluctantly withdrew his hand, relishing the tightness of Martin’s passage even as he slipped free. Hastily, he prepared himself, his hands trembling as he slicked up his furiously hard cock. “Look,” he ordered, and Martin’s eyes flickered open, locking on his. “See what you’ve done to me.” Martin’s gaze focused lower, taking in the sight of Douglas fisting his own erection. He gulped and met Douglas’ stare again, longing evident in his tense focus.

 

Douglas couldn’t hold back any more. Slowly, steadily, he leant forward and pressed in: a slow, deep slide designed as much to keep him from hair-triggering as to pleasurably torture Martin. It was so difficult not to succumb to temptation and thrust in blindly – pound Martin over and over – but Douglas managed to restrain himself, just.

 

Instead, he reached up, grabbed Martin’s jaw, holding him firmly. Not enough to cause pain – simply enough to pin him, to overwhelm him with Douglas’ nearness. Martin’s eyes never left his, the intensity of the moment spinning between them leaving no room for anything in either of their minds but each other.

 

Douglas reached full depth at last, piercing Martin to his core, and they both shuddered. He gave Martin a few seconds to adjust, but at last could resist no longer – tight heat hammering at his every sense. “I’m going to move, now,” he gritted out, hoarsely.

 

Martin nodded, one hand flexing compulsively in the cuffs as if he wanted to cradle Douglas. “Please… oh, Master, I need…”

 

Douglas kissed him, his fingers leaving a smear of lubricant at Martin’s jawline. He snapped his hips, a sudden change that made Martin cry out in frustrated near-bliss, and immediately set up a punishing rhythm. The cock-ring was still holding Martin back from the edge, but the room was full of their gasping.

 

Martin must feel utterly strung out; Douglas had been keeping him teetering for such a long time – he deserved his reward, had so thoroughly earned it. And Douglas knew he wouldn’t last himself, the sensations pounding within him too intense, the build-up too heated. He reached between them, snapped away the ring.

 

“Now,” he said, hoarsely, and without another touch to his cock, Martin came with a wail, the first spurt reaching his collarbone, the longed-for release thumping through him in an inescapable wave.

 

Douglas couldn’t contain himself any longer. With a moan, he pulled out and shot all over Martin’s stomach and chest, marking Martin as his, his, his; his brain whiting out in pleasure.

 

He fell forwards, onto Martin, felt his sub kiss his damp hair.

 

“Thank you,” Martin whispered. He stretched, and Douglas sluggishly hastened to set him free, massaging his wrists for him lovingly. Martin tsked, amused. “I’m fine. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

 

Douglas reached for the lotion nonetheless. “Let me look after you.”

 

Martin laughed, a bright, happy sound completely different to the stressed-out snap he’d made an hour before. “You already have, Douglas.” He kissed his dom affectionately. “You have.”

**Author's Note:**

> As you might notice - each of the 5 is a micro-fic at 300 words. I tried to make the +1 total 300 words too, but just couldn't get it down (most ironically considering D&M's activities in that particular chapter...) - so I settled for 500 to make the whole thing exactly 2000 words long. Maybe one day I'll manage a true ficlet... but that day is not today :)


End file.
